The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 299

McNeil had all the trappings of old money—a privileged, aristocratic air beneath the polished veneer of a trust fund heir. The first time Victoria laid eyes on him, she was utterly captivated.

"Go upstairs and change. We're having dinner at Granddad's tonight. If he sees you dressed like this, he won't be pleased."

Victoria smirked inwardly.

So much for the "just the three of us going out to dinner" he'd promised. Turned

out, they were heading back to the old family estate to see the patriarch.

No wonder McNeil hadn't cut her loose yet-she was still useful to him.

"Alright."

She didn't argue, just made her way to the room she hadn't set foot in for ages. The moment she habitually flung open the closet doors, Victoria was stunned.

Her clothes-all of them were neatly arranged inside. Same sizes, same styles, nothing missing, not even a single piece of lingerie. It was as if she'd never left at all.

But she vividly remembered packing every last item when she walked out the door.

Back then, McNeil's things were the only ones left behind.

Now, both their clothes had found their way back to their places, side by side.

fit her perfectly. Except for the faint scent of newness, everything was

The woman staring back was the same one who, for six years, had

time, there was something different in her

drifted to the nightstand, where

She walked over.

pen where the writing would vanish completely after half an hour. Gwyneth must have left it here the last time she was playing in the room. Victoria pocketed the pen

at the floor-to-ceiling windows, lost in thought, cigarette smoldering between his lips and one hand tucked into his

of Victoria's footsteps pulled him from his reverie. He turned just as she began her descent down the spiral staircase, moving with a grace that made his breath

swept up, with just a few delicate strands framing her face. Pearl earrings adorned her ears, catching the light, while her bright eyes seemed to sparkle with a

knitted dress, the soft fabric tracing every

innocent girl into a woman of depth and allure. Yet time had left no trace of

than she'd been years ago, her beauty now touched by

slipped from his lips before he

end landed on his hand, and the sting finally broke

out on the carpet with his shoe.

her, reaching out as she stepped onto the final stair. Victoria hesitated for a moment, but in the

chapel. McNeil had taken her hand just like this, guiding her toward the

Langford, you look

he pulled her into his

almost imperceptibly, keeping just enough distance between them. "I've always dressed like this. Perhaps Mr. Langford simply never noticed?" Every piece in that closet had been carefully chosen by her. She'd bought them only because, back when they were dating, McNeil had said he liked women